


sleep is for the weak (kneed)

by manillak



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drabble, First Meetings, Fluff, I GUESS IT'S FLUFF, M/M, Slice of Life, mentions of Kuroo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7155209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manillak/pseuds/manillak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto Koutarou was in a rut, but honestly, he wouldn't have it any other way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleep is for the weak (kneed)

**Author's Note:**

> okay so here's a shameless first meeting fic which i might write a second part to, tell me in the comments if you'd like a sort of sequel?   
> i listened to bloom by the paper kites on repeat while writing this (amazing song, please listen to it)  
> based on an au prompt which i unfortunately cannot find the link to, sorry about that (*´◡`)  
> please leave whatever feedback you have in the comments below (*^▽^*)

Bokuto Koutarou was in a rut. His daily routine consisted of sleeping through early morning university classes, finishing his homework in the library and rushing off to his job at Fukuro’s cafe, where he earned  _ just  _ enough to pay for a fairly decent, multi-roomed apartment. His shift ended just late enough for him to be thoroughly exhausted when he got home and collapsed in his bed. Falling asleep at 2:30, he would get around four hours of sleep for class the next day, if he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night.

 

Sure, it wasn’t the healthiest routine, but it  _ was  _ routine, and over time, it had become familiar. It would just be plain weird if he didn’t have a dead tired face to greet Kuroo with at university every morning.

 

Bokuto was perfectly content with it, in fact. He had done plenty of research on the long term effects of constant sleep deprivation and had firmly decided that a night shift job was worth it.

 

Because Bokuto, despite what Kuroo kept teasing him about, had made a friend in his fellow insomniac neighbour who lived in the apartment complex across his. The two buildings had the unfortunate placement of having the two large kitchen windows facing each other, allowing perfect vision into the other's kitchen, and no privacy whatsoever. Whenever Bokuto got up at three, unable to sleep, he’d pad over to his kettle, make a cup of chamomile tea and drink it while staring out his window into his neighbour’s kitchen. He found that whenever he was up, neighbour was too. The man was sort of a center, a constant in Bokuto’s hectic lifestyle. He felt at ease whenever he could see him, despite having never met him.

 

Though they were separated by two sheets of glass and about three feet of space , the presence was still comforting to him. It didn’t hurt that the other man was smoking hot, either. He almost felt like a pervert for watching him.

 

The man would glide around his kitchen, the moonlight illuminating his porcelain skin and piercing eyes. His dark, messy hair would blend into the shadows easily. His fingers moved with grace when they typed on the laptop he kept on his dining table or poured a mug of coffee (At two in the morning; At least Bokuto tried).

 

Bokuto would watch him from his own kitchen, practically in a trance until he finally became tired again and reluctantly slunk back into bed. 

 

For months he had been watching him, and for months the other man hadn’t failed him. Each night Bokuto woke up, his neighbour would always be awake with him. It was almost worrying. But never before had the other man  _ seen Bokuto.  _

 

Bokuto froze, mug halfway up to his lips. His eyes were locked with his neighbours. The gaze locked him in place, even through the glass. The man looked dumbfounded.

 

_ With rightful reason,  _ Bokuto thought.

 

The black-haired man had been reaching up into his cupboard (Most probably for his container of coffee, dark roast, no milk) when he had, for the first time, glanced out his window and caught Bokuto staring straight at him.

 

Well, shit.

 

With jerky and confused movements, the man raised his hand and gave a tiny wave. Bokuto felt a huge grin split across his face before he could stop himself. He waved back with full force while the other man just frowned in confusion. Bokuto almost felt sorry for him.

 

Thinking quickly, to avoid his neighbour calling the police to report a case of stalking, Bokuto grabbed a notebook off his counter and ripped a piece of paper out of it. Yanking the cap off a permanent marker, he wrote on the paper in quite large characters. 

He held the makeshift sign up to his window for the other man to read. The black-haired man grabbed a pair of glasses off his table and walked closer to the window to read it. Closer up, the man was even more beautiful than Bokuto had realised. 

 

_ hey, don’t freak out  _

 

His neighbour’s face just looked on the verge of horrified. Grabbing a second sheet of paper out of his notebook, he wrote another note.

 

_ your  _ _ prec _ _ presence is just really comforting okay? _

 

As Bokuto held it up for him to read, he considered changing his name and moving to Hawaii,  embarrassment and fear (of being arrested or something) weighing down on his shoulders. The man’s expression softened as he read, but he could not pinpoint why.

 

The man dashed out of view, and for a second, Bokuto worried that he had scared him off. When he returned with his own piece of paper, his heart lifted. He scrawled something across it, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, though Bokuto was beginning to think furrowed was the default state of his brow. He held up the piece of paper.

 

_ Thank you, I guess… _

 

Bokuto grinned even wider than before. It did not leave his face as he wrote the next note.

 

_ im bokuto by the way :D _

 

He swore he saw the man flash a tiny smile.

 

_ Akaashi Keiji. _

 

_ would you like to come over for some coffee akaashi? im apartment 207 xox _

 

He felt the kisses were too much, but Bokuto was just rolling with it right now. He held his breath as he saw the man disappear from sight again. In the ten minutes of sensory silence he had, he worried that he had scared of the man, Akaashi. Maybe he had just been stalling. Maybe he was in the lobby right now, reporting Bokuto. Maybe- 

 

There was a knock at his door. He beamed, opening the door as soon as he heard it. Having Akaashi so close in front of him was like seeing an apparition. 

 

Maybe Bokuto would let Akaashi lead his life from nearer now. Maybe Akaashi could be his anchor that he could come home to everyday. 

 

_ Yeah, _ Bokuto thought, staring at the beautiful face sitting at his kitchen counter, perfectly illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the window.  _ Maybe I can love this man.  _


End file.
